


Wintertime Drabbles

by magneticdice



Series: A Very, Merry Gallavich Christmas [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of a few, short, winter-themed drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Chocolate

**Hot Chocolate**

“Here,” Mickey said, shoving the paper cup into Ian's hand.

“What's this?” Ian asked, surprised. He'd been bored out of his mind sitting at the register of the Kash and Grab while Mickey was on his break.

“What the fuck's it look like?” Mickey snapped back, taking the white plastic lid off of his own drink. Ian craned his neck and saw what looked like hot chocolate in Mickey's cup.

“You got me hot chocolate?” he wondered, smile slowly creeping onto his cheeks. It wasn't like Mickey to do something nice for him, especially since Ian hadn't even asked him to. Ian opened the lid of his cup and saw the mountain of whipped cream topped with a caramel swirl. “ _With whipped cream and caramel?”_ he added, when Mickey hadn't replied to his first question.

Mickey scowled at him and walked to the back of the store, presumably to get his Security jacket. Ian took a sip of his hot chocolate, the cold whipped cream mixing with the hot drink to make the perfect combined temperature in his mouth. He stuck his finger into the toppings and licked off some of the caramel. It was his favorite wintertime drink.

Mickey walked back and Ian was absolutely beaming at him. Mickey's hot chocolate had no toppings, but he'd remembered exactly how Ian liked his. Better yet, Mickey had had to _order_ the drink, and had probably been embarrassed about 'sounding like a faery or whatever' while doing.

“What?” Mickey asked finally, when all Ian did was smile like an idiot whenever he looked up.

“Nothing... thanks for the drink,” he said, taking another sip.

“Whatever,” Mickey responded with a shrug.


	2. Candy Canes

**Candy Canes**

Ian and Mandy were playing a game on the Xbox when Mickey got home. “Don't you losers have school?” he asked as he kicked off his snow-covered boots. He had a candy cane in his mouth that he'd been sucking on, to the point where it looked like a sharp prison shank.

“It's our Christmas break, moron,” Mandy answered.

Mickey went into his room and Ian was about to tell Mandy he had to go to the bathroom when he heard the door open behind him. Ian scooted closer to Mandy after Mickey sat down on the couch next to them and grabbed the controller out of Ian's hands without hesitation. 

“Got any more candy canes?” Mandy wondered. 

“Nope,” Mickey said with a smirk. He took the stick out of his mouth and bit off the sharp end with a loud snap, and crunched on it with his mouth open just to rub it in her face. Mandy huffed in disappointment and Mickey laughed before going back to sharpening the rest of the candy cane with his tongue.

Ian watched the brother and sister play against each other for a couple of rounds. He couldn't decide who was more competitive, both of them being such sore losers that it was almost comical to watch.

When Mandy lost again, she tossed her controller onto Ian's lap. “Here, you play against this asshole while I go get some chips.”

“Here,” Mickey said, giving Ian a new candy cane from his pocket. “Just make sure you finish it before she gets back.”

“You mean bite it instead of sucking on it?” Ian grinned mischievously as he unwrapped the treat.


	3. Snowed In

**Snowed In**

“I fucking hate this weather,” Mickey spat as he slammed the door behind him. He looked over at Ian who was lying on their couch under a blanket while watching the news on TV.

“I told you not to bother shovelling. They're saying we're getting another 18-24 inches tonight.”

“Are you serious?”

Ian nodded, and Mickey scowled. “Great. Just what I fucking needed...”

“What're you so upset about?” Ian asked.

“It's Friday!”

“So?”

Mickey sighed, frustrated. “So, connect the dots, Gallagher. You think the city's gonna pay those lazy-ass sanitation guys overtime on a weekend for them to clean the roads? Fat fucking chance. So, that means we're gonna be stuck in here 'til Monday morning.”

Ian smiled from his comfortable spot on the couch. They'd just gone shopping a couple of days ago, and the fridge was still stocked. “ _So..._ you mean to tell me you're gettin' all worked up about having to spend the weekend at home together, without any distractions or obligations?” He let that sink in for a minute. “Maybe we might actually get to finish season four of 'The Wire'.”

Mickey didn't have any smart comebacks. Gallagher _did_ have a point. They hadn't had a single weekend together in peace for two months straight without one of their siblings interrupting them or harassing them with some problem or a favor they needed.

It had taken them almost a month to finish season three of the series and they were both completely hooked because everything in it reminded them of what it was like on the South Side. Mickey still couldn't believe that Omar, one of the biggest bad-ass-mother-fuckers on the show, was a faggot. 

“Shove over,” he said to Ian, but the redhead just lifted his legs until Mickey sat at the other end of the couch and then put his feet back down onto Mickey's lap. “At least gimme some more of the blanket. I was out there for almost an hour just clearing the sidewalk,” Mickey sulked.

“'Kay, Mick,” Ian replied with a smile, unfolding the quilt so that it was big enough to cover the both of them. He reached over to the table for the controller and turned on the Xbox, thankful that he didn't have to get up because the DVD was already in the console. There was no way he was leaving his bubble of warmth, and he doubted Mickey would have gotten up again.

“Turn it up,” Mickey ordered. Ian increased the volume so that it drowned out the sound of the blizzard raging outside. Mickey covered himself with the quilt and rested his hands on top of Ian's legs, making himself comfortable. He smiled as the show started, or maybe it was from realizing that he was always comfortable when he was with Gallagher...


	4. A Storm is Coming

**A Storm is Coming**

"What's wrong, Mick?"

Mickey looked at Ian, confused. He hadn't said anything or complained, so he didn't know why Gallagher would be asking him that.

It was a quiet Sunday morning in the middle of December, and they were in the kitchen leisurely having breakfast. Ian was reading the comics in the paper while having some cereal and Mickey was making himself a cup of coffee. 

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

Ian chuckled softly to himself. "You think, after all these years, I can't tell when you're in pain?"

Mickey grimaced and sat down at the table, giving up on his coffee. "You can forget about taking Mandy's brats to the park today."

Ian put the paper down and gave Mickey a long stare. "You sure?"

Mickey nodded and then rubbed at his right thigh. He watched Ian stand up and get the phone. 

"Hey, Mands," Ian said while getting sugar from the pantry.

"Good. You?" He put two spoonfuls of sugar into Mickey's mug.

"Mhmm." 

Ian walked to the fridge and took out the milk. There wasn't much left, so he waved the carton in front of Mickey's face so that he'd remember to pick up some more. "Yeah," he said into the phone which was now braced against his ear by his shoulder.

"No, we can't today."

"Because it's gonna rain." He stirred the milk and sugar until the coffee was a light, creamy color.

"Hah! Yeah, because the news is always right?" Ian said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Trust me," he reassured her, looking over at his boyfriend who was still rubbing his thigh with a pained look on his face. Ian had heard of old people or people who had broken bones being able to feel when a storm was coming because their joints would start to hurt. It was the same with Mickey: the scar tissue around his bullet wound would tighten and ache a few hours before it rained. He was never wrong.

He put the mug down on the kitchen table in front of Mickey, then took his seat and continued eating his cereal.

"Tell Tommy and Izzy we'll see them next weekend and get them extra chocolate to make it up to them." He smiled when Mickey rolled his eyes. They both knew those kids became demons when they got their hands on any sugar.

"Love you too. Sorry again..."

"Yeah, bye."

Mickey took a sip of his coffee; it was perfect. "Thanks," he told Ian appreciatively, holding the warm drink with both hands.

"No problem. Thanks for being my own personal weatherman."


	5. S'mores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Gallaghers have a family tradition of making s'mores when winter begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was inspired by my re-watch of episode 1x07 and seeing all the random things in Mickey's room. hanging on his wall is a pair of those trident-looking knives that Raphael from the ninja turtles has.

**S'mores**

The Gallaghers had a tradition where they made s'mores on the first official night of winter. Every year, rain or shine (or snow), they brought out the chocolate and graham crackers every 21st of December. It may have been stupid, but for some reason, Ian absolutely loved it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they did it together, as a family, or it could just be that he loved s'mores, but he'd been looking forward to it all week. 

Ian snapped his cell phone shut, just having gotten off the phone with Fiona, who'd called and reminded him to bring the marshmallows home from work.

“Hey Mick?” Ian said tentatively. He had been trying to think of a casual way to invite Mickey to their house tonight but still hadn't figured out the best way to do it.

“What?” Mickey asked, putting down the magazine he'd been flipping though to pass the time. His shift at the Kash and Grab was almost over, and he made no effort to disguise his lack of enthusiasm at working there.

A customer walked in and Ian got distracted with ringing her up. 

Mickey left a few minutes later, and Ian sat behind the register for the next four hours feeling utterly dejected.

He glumly walked home that night, bag of jumbo marshmallows in hand. Lip had gotten half a bag of charcoal from the job-site he was finishing his community service at, Kev had brought some lighter fluid home from work, Fiona had bought graham crackers on sale at the supermarket using the coupons Debbie had been clipping for weeks, Veronica had casually stolen chocolate squares from work at the motel, and Debbie and Carl had spent the afternoon collecting sticks for the roasting process.

“Did you invite Mandy?” Ian asked his brother when he'd gotten upstairs.

“Who do you think's bringing the garbage can?” Lip replied.

Half an hour later, Mandy arrived with the metal barrel trashcan and everything started coming together. Their ghetto bonfire was up and running in the backyard, and Ian's brothers and sisters all stood happily around it, clad in heavy coats and scarves, warming their hands against the flames. 

“'Kay Debs, where are the sticks?” Fiona called. 

“Oh shit...”

Everyone turned to look at Kevin, who'd been in charge of starting the fire.

“I thought they were for the fire...” he said guiltily.

Veronica hit him upside the head. “Nice one, moron!”

“We could go find some more...” Debbie suggested, even though it had taken her and Carl almost an hour to collect them earlier that day.

“Don't sweat it, kid. I'll call Mickey,” Mandy assured them.

“Mickey? What's he gonna do?” Fiona asked. Ian frowned. His big sister had never been a fan of any of the Milkoviches and didn't bother to hide her distaste.

Mandy gave Fiona a look that told her to back off and called her brother. Mickey showed up less than ten minutes later with a pair of twin sai blades.

“Are you shittin' me?” Lip said when Mickey had entered their backyard and taken the blades out.

“You got a better way of roasting six marshmallows at a time, wise-ass, you lemme know,” Mickey replied.

Lip lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, okay Michelangelo.”

Ian opened his mouth to object but Carl was the one to beat him to it and inadvertently defend Mickey. “Michelangelo was the one with the _nunchucks_ ,” he said, rolling his eyes at his oldest brother. He grabbed the bag of marshmallows from Fiona and ripped a corner of the bag to open it. Taking four of them out, he stuck one onto each prong of the blade in Mickey's left hand and popped the last one into his mouth. “ _Raphael_ had these,” he added, mouth stuffed, as he took the weapon from Mickey's hand and held it towards the flames coming from the barrel.

Debbie followed suit and took the bag from Carl, then added three marshmallows to the prongs of the other blade. Ian's grin stretched from ear to ear as he watched his family quickly recover from their momentary setback. They started making the chocolate, graham cracker and marshmallow sandwiches with assembly line efficiency. 

Ian never did get to ask Mickey where he'd gotten the weapons from in the first place. He was just happy that he got to experience one of his favorite moments of the year with Mickey there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is for Claudia. I hope it makes u feel a little happier...


End file.
